


what we could not hold

by sweetwatersong



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen, Miscarriage, Off-screen Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetwatersong/pseuds/sweetwatersong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is too heavy, too much, she cannot hold it - but she doesn't have to carry her grief alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what we could not hold

She stands outside his apartment in the rain, her breath racing as though she has just finished running to his door.

In a way, she has.

The door swings open and he’s standing in the entryway, barefoot in sweats and a lumpy blue sweater, confused by the late hour until he sees her.

"Mako?" He asks with surprise, concern. She can’t reply, can’t catch her breath, just steps under the small overhang and up to the doorstep, over the threshold. He lets go of the door handle as she leans into him, wrapping her soaking arms around his comforting bulk. A moment later his arms settle around her, cautious, gentle, supporting.

Mako presses her face into the soft blue knit and lets herself breathe in the scent of home.

 

They stand there for an eternity, wrapped up in one another and the moment, the now. She knows he’s wondering what is wrong, is looking down at her with that unabashed worry, because Raleigh has always cared about her - not the Marshall’s best and brightest, not his potential co-pilot, _her_. At some point he shifts his arms, drops his head to press his cheek against her dripping hair. At some point after that, without words or a message or more than the in-tune sense they have for each other (no matter the rest of the world, no matter who else their hearts belong to) he stiffens.

She takes a half step back, pulling her hands down to rest on his forearms. It puts a distance between them, a space where she can look at him, on the verge of running or returning.

"We - lost it," Mako says clearly, enunciating the English because each word bears its own weight. Then she breaks and slips into Japanese so the truth is made real, is affirmed in her native tongue - in her aching heart. " _I - lost her_.”

His expression goes from concerned to processing to devastated as he understands what she means (he always does, he always has and she loves that about him), and the sorrow in his eyes is enough to swallow her whole, to drown in. To match her own. He exhales, looks as if he’s going to say something, then instead tips his head forward to rest against hers as his body shifts, closing the gap between them and adjusting to her shape.

Held, accepted, loved, Mako closes her eyes and lets out the shuddering grief she’s been holding in.

Lets out the reality of it all.

 

Curled up on the couch, listening to the rain falling outside and the heartbeat under her ear, Mako stares at the glistening city lights and remembers to breathe. Raleigh holds her gently, so gently, stretched out to cradle her with hands and arms and heart, to shape his world around her, murmuring mantras into her ear - _It’s not your fault. It’s okay. Life’s fucked up, Mako. It’s not your fault. It’s okay._ The knit of his sweater pressing into her cheek, the warm support of his body under her, the empty bowls of chicken soup on the low table and the steaming mugs of green tea beside them…

Mako takes a breath in, listens to it all, and lets her breath out.

_Some things we were not meant to carry; some things we cannot keep. But oh, how we mourn what we could not hold…_


End file.
